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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29280243">this is love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerboy54/pseuds/flowerboy54'>flowerboy54</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dream Smp, Gen, Magic, Minecraft Manhunt, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, manhunt but irl?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:36:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29280243</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerboy54/pseuds/flowerboy54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>in which legendary thief, "dream," sets off on a quest to defeat the mythical dragon</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>several hunters go off to track down the newest threat to the mysterious portal they've been taught to protect</p>
<p>- inspired by the song "this is love" by air traffic controller -</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>this is love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi! this is my first time publishing anything on ao3, hope you enjoy. I have a lot of ideas for what will happen in the story for the future... lots of Dream SMP people I want to include who may or may not be in the tags already o.o</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dream pondered the heavy rainfall outside the inn for the third night in a row, mulling over the plan in his head that had started to form once he had realized where the rough path he was following was leading. It was a long shot, to be sure, but the challenge was more enticing than any other he’d faced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Since birth, Dream had been a thrill seeker. Not for the attention, which he could easily get from his performance in school, or any monetary value that could be placed on risky jobs, but for the prospect of proving he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> do everything and more. It led him into a life of crime, and if you asked any well-respected smuggler, thief, mage, or hitman in the Green Country if they knew Dream, they’d be proud to say they did, and that any friend of his was a friend of theirs. This open friendship was not only thanks to the kind warmth with which he treated almost everyone, but also a result of the almost lightning-like precision and skill with which he excelled in every challenge that was set before him. Though Dream mostly stuck to the Green Country, he’d crossed the southern deserts and northern mountains quite often, so much so that it was hard to pinpoint any exact location he was in by merely talking to the inhabitants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, his travels and ever-increasing bounties lead him east, where the strongest countries were nested in high walls behind bristling swords. Dream had been careful to avoid the east as much as he could, but with authorities closing in and his appetite for true danger growing stale, the scent of adventure that had crossed his doorstep since he was a child beckoned him into the deep, dangerous unknown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he considered all of this, his history, his future prospects, the rain continued to fall. The innkeeper promised it would let up by the morning, and by then Dream needed a plan and decisive action. He was already decently into the east of the Green Country, not far from his childhood home. He hadn’t visited since he’d left as a young teen, and he didn't plan to now, but he wondered if his sister was still there. Maybe he should stop by…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So it was decided that he’d be heading east. He’d drop by his old home briefly, for an hour at most, and hope that his mother was generous enough still to lend him some supplies for the trip. He was pretty much set as it was, but the stay at the inn, a safe house known to few, had allowed him time to take inventory and realize how low he was on quick food and bandages. The shortcut he’d taken through the forest wasn’t a good idea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A toast to the trustworthiness of innkeepers! His wonderful host was right in her prediction. Though the ground was muddy still, which opened up the possibility that he could be tracked fairly easily, the sky was clear and the air was scrubbed clean, leading Dream to lower his mask in a risky move and take in the morning breeze that was fleeing from the rising sun like deer from the hunt. Good fortune was on the air, and so he set off into the sunrise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few times, Dream had to dip into alleys and rush through yards to avoid the eyes that scoured the streets for his presence, but otherwise the day was on his side. With high hopes, he set into his regular patterns of evasion that he did without thinking, and had some time in his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The </span>
  <em>
    <span>dragon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A mythical beast by all accounts but one, it resided in another dimension. No mage, however powerful, could access it anywhere other than in the greatest stronghold this side of the known universe. No one was allowed to attempt it, either. The place had a rotating guard, along with manhunters who would track down and kill anyone on sight who was planning to attempt to get in and claim the prize of the dragon’s head. Some people liked to engage in speculation as to why, but more often than not the general populace was too scared of being murdered to make serious claims. Dream didn’t have any theories himself, but he figured it must be a fragile creature to have so many guards. The real challenge would be evading the hunters and sneaking past the guard, and then he’d have all the personal glory he wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream’s personal philosophy was that the simpler the general plan, with greater ease would it be accomplished through quick decisions and practiced skill in the heat of the moment. So, he laid a simple plan. If he didn’t want to alert the hunters of his movements, he would speak of this to no strangers. No one he met on his travels whom he didn’t trust completely would have knowledge that he was setting off to kill the dragon. If his whereabouts were questioned, he’d say he was visiting distant relatives. It was true enough, he had connections to a crime group who worked like a mycelium network under every city. Find one, and he’s safe. Dream was certain his reputation would precede him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the rest, it would be improvisation and quick wit. A simple quest, but with certain risks that couldn’t be accounted for. Those who had attempted it before had taken similar precautions and still been found out. It was a mystery to Dream how, but he hoped that his luck so far would hold true and deliver him safely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of being delivered safely, the once-familiar door to his former home towered over him. One knock, then two, and it creaked open.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Mom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words were strange to say, tinged with an unfamiliarity and lack of confidence that Dream didn’t experience often. He was greeted by a nostalgic, if not depressing, sight. His mother was sitting at the hearth opposite her front door, cleaning the sword that was usually displayed on the mantelpiece. It had been his father’s, and she would routinely clean it whenever she thought of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the door had creaked, she looked up in resignation, though Dream didn’t know why. Her face had quickly turned to shock, her grip on the hilt of the sword tightening as much as her features. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The old clock in the kitchen to their left ticked off the seconds of silence menacingly. It wasn’t often that Dream was left silent, without a plan or anywhere to run. Idly, he wondered where his sister was as his eyes scanned the house. It was mostly the same, though it had fallen into further disrepair. The outside had looked fine when he’d approached it, though the grimy windows gave away some neglect inside. The countertops were dirty, cabinet doors were broken but working just enough to be ignored, and the rug just inside was caked in mud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mother was still staring at him when Dream heard someone approaching the door from behind him. He turned to find a girl who he assumed was his sister. Her boots were muddy and her head was down, but it wouldn’t make sense for it to be anyone else. When she realized he was there, she looked up in shock, and her green eyes, which matched his own, confirmed his assumption. He heard his mother move, finally, and put down the sword on the ground as she rose to her feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shuffling footsteps warned him that she was approaching, and he took a step back to give his sister room to walk in. She did, tentatively, and placed a few cloth bags on the table without removing eye contact with Dream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” she said, her steely voice giving Dream chills after the long years he’d gone without watching her grow up and gain this new confidence she apparently had, “why are you here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mother remained quiet as she took the various bags, save for the smallest one, and started sorting through their contents. There was bread, meat, and twine, but not much of any one thing. The smallest bag must’ve been their money.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was hoping… for some help.” It would feel wrong to lie to them, as he once had, so Dream stuck to the truth. He put his fate in their shaky, underfed hands and hoped they wouldn’t drop its fragile case and shatter it on the rough earthen floor of their home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s not much we could really help you with,</span>
  <em>
    <span> Dream</span>
  </em>
  <span>. If you can’t tell, we don’t have the best resources for ourselves as it is. Even if we did, there’s no reason we </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There wasn’t much he could say to that, and her usage of his nickname was malicious at best. He’d been a writer when he was younger, and he’d made vast fantasy worlds with his sister. They’d had their own characters, gone on quests, slain mythical beasts, and even beaten the dragon he was seeking now. Dream was his character. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe if he told her…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about a trade?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes narrowed, scanning his. The mask was still up, perhaps for a sense of security in the face of this unfamiliar vulnerability he was facing, and there wasn’t much she’d be able to tell of his mind from his expression. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Depends on the trade, and I’m sure there will be terms along with it. Isn’t that right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I’ll discuss it with you if we can go out into the meadow, like old times.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His sister scoffed at that. Her temper was surely something, Dream had to admit. It was likely she’d developed the attitude she had to cope with becoming the strongest in the house at such a young age. Dream had gone through the same thing, but he’d lashed out at himself rather than others.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What a pair they were, two damaged siblings fighting to stay in control of their lives.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, they made their way out the back door to the meadow. Their mother had gone back to her sharpening, though it seemed with a new sense of purpose. Tall grass engulfed their legs as they walked in silence, Dream following her, their footsteps almost silent despite the rustling that followed their path. That was another similarity about them, a sense of familiarity in nature that made them blend into most environments almost perfectly. This trait had aided Dream greatly in his travels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon they arrived at the spot, and it was just as Dream remembered it. A small cleared area in a sea of grasses that completely hid them as kids when they sat and talked and played, far away from the problems of money and bitter sadness at home. Silence ruled them as they settled onto the ground, dried and warmed by the high sun. As calm settled in with the warmth that seeped into their bones, sweet birdsong from the neighboring woods graced the air. Dream lowered his mask to breathe it all in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you want to say without mom here?” Dream’s sister asked, true concern finally entering her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honesty is important between us, and I don’t trust myself to be honest around her,” he said, letting the gravity of his statement permeate the air before continuing. “I’m going on a quest, one greater than any I’ve attempted. That won’t sound like much to you, since we’ve been apart so long, but trust in my word that it is. If Mom knew… it would be dangerous for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure we can help with that. Mom’s hardly here at all, it’s been worse since you left, and I’ve been working my hardest trying to keep us alive. We don’t have anything to spare.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he’d have to move on. Still…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Regardless, I’d like to consult you about the quest. You won’t believe me when I tell you what it is, but it’s the truth. Honesty pact, remember?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay…” his sister sounded skeptical, and understandably so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to kill the dragon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence returned to the clearing, and the birds sounded louder in the absence of wind. A cloud passed over the sun. Dream had never said something so bold, with so much confidence and without any theatrics tied to it. It felt impulsive, dangerous, yet utterly inconsequential. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s incredibly dangerous for you to say,” she commented, and her nonchalance felt calculated and precise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I trust you with my life and more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you should?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Without a doubt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite his response being automatic, Dream got nervous when she asked the question. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Should</span>
  </em>
  <span> he? There was no reason he could think of not to, but he hadn’t interacted with his sister in years and it was very likely she’d expose him, whether on purpose or on accident. Something about their bond made him believe she wouldn’t, though, so he forced himself to believe his trust was justified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, well, if you want my advice,” she took a deep breath. “Never speak those words to anyone ever again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, that was the plan. I’m not entirely brainless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Could’ve fooled me… also, you should travel light. If you have armor, keep it hidden or in a bag. Never tell anyone where you’re truly going. You’ll need a good cover.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good idea with the armor thing. As for cover, I was thinking of saying I was going to visit distant relatives…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>---</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The conversation continued like this for long hours until they had eaten a small meal from Dream’s supply and fireflies began to emerge from the surrounding grass. His sister had been a greater help than he’d expected, and in more ways than one. They’d come up with a more believable cover, planned out different rest stops according to his connections in various areas, and rationed many of his supplies. It had been a long time since Dream had felt true companionship with someone, and it felt good to not be alone again. The cool air and darkening skies reminded him of his journey ahead and the oncoming loneliness quickly began to replace the warmth in his bones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s hard for me to leave now,” he said as they started back to the house. “I wasn’t aware of how lonely I was before. Now I remember what it’s like to have a friend, I’m not sure I’m ready to go on alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll manage, Dream.” His sister had been calling him by his true name all day, and it felt strange for her to go back to calling him Dream. Perhaps it was some returning professionalism, her way of not becoming too attached again. He couldn’t blame her, and it wasn’t shocking that she didn’t feel the urge to come with him as he set off again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for all your help. I would ask if I could stay and rest tonight, but I’m afraid I’m well rested as it is and it’s better to move as quickly as possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s okay,” his sister said, opening the door. “You’re welcome to come back if, or rather when, you succeed. I could use your help here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brightness inside the house was welcoming, and Dream was once again reminded of how this wasn’t his home anymore. His mother was preparing food in their small kitchen, he could smell the meat from earlier cooking. His father’s sword was laying on the table, oddly enough, and its dark steel reflected the golden candlelight menacingly, making their gentle warmth seem cold and threatening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’s Dad’s sword on the table?” he asked, eyes fixated on it. His question was aimed at his sister, but his mother answered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… know you’re probably going away again. I figured… you could use it. Have it. He would’ve wanted you to, someday. I don’t know when you’ll be back,” she said, her voice ragged and shaky from disuse and sorrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The small house was full of the sound of crackling fire and nothing else for a while, and she began to speak again to fill the stunned silence from both of her children.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s good. It’s sharp, obviously. It shouldn’t rust, and it’s easy to clean. I’ve fixed the grip on the hilt countless times. It’s truly a kingly sword. Regal. Perfect for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream stepped forward, as if he were accepting a prophecy. It was hard to imagine his mother acting like this, but here it was, happening before his eyes. Bitterness was turned to generosity, and the painful hours of work she had spent on this sword had made it incredibly strong in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Mom,” he said. It didn’t feel like enough. “I’ll use it to make you proud. You’ll see me again.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” she said, and then returned to her work on the food. It would be a long time until she spoke to her children like this again, and even longer until it were in an atmosphere of love and trust. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His sister escorted him to the door, her shocked eyes on their mother for a minute, and then let him out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you do come back,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The night was empty, most people gone to bed already. The only person who could hear them was their mother, and who knows if she was really listening at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll try my hardest, I always do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled at that, and pulled him into the first hug they’d shared since he was a child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good luck, Dream. With the dragon, with the wild unknown, with everything. Come back. Come home. Be </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
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